The power of family ...
... to make one fine conversation turn to a pile of shit with one guilt inducing sentence.
Ah yes the family -- the one group of people that know every goddamn thing about you. All your successes and mostly, all your failures.
I had the opportunity to talk to a woman yesterday - one that I have known all my life.
Or should I say she's known me all my life? This woman is an aunt.
She used to be my best friend. We had some good times when I moved back from Wisconsin in the late '70's and into the 80's. Regardless of what is going on with us now, I'm sure she would agree ... it's a good thing bars, cars and motels can't talk. Yes, she and I have shared some secrets.
When I made a visit back to see the folks in the fall of 2005, she had mentioned she wanted my dad to get mom some new shoes. Not just shoes -- but pricey shoes - she never explained why.
hmmmm, how odd, I thought, that she is so insistent that she have such pricey shoes.
It seems really strange that a woman like my mother, who could care less what she looks like anymore, would need that kind of shoe. It's not so much that she doesn't care about her appearance anymore but it's the fact that she seldom gets out of the wheel chair anymore.
Well, a couple weeks later, the aunt and I talked again and she started laughing and said something to the effect of:
"I don't know what I was thinking! Yes, why would she need such pricey shoes when she seldom gets out of the wheel chair?" and she laughed.
End of subject.
Not so.
My mother has diabetes. They recently found a sore on the bottom of her foot. She didn't realize she had a sore, because she doesn't have much feeling in her feet any more.
Once again, I was talking with this aunt that used to be my best friend, that is now just my aunt again - and she managed to put this little zinger in the conversation:
"I told you and your dad a year ago that she needed better shoes - now she has this sore on her foot that isn't healing."
Well, dear auntie - since you're the one closest to her, and if you're so sure her shoes caused this sore or even could cause a sore, then why didn't you put it like that -- or better yet, why didn't you just get the fucking shoes when you first mentioned it 5 months ago?
(yes, dear auntie, it was 5 months ago -- not a year ago)
Family ... if ya can't blog about 'em, who can ya really talk to?
Ah yes the family -- the one group of people that know every goddamn thing about you. All your successes and mostly, all your failures.
I had the opportunity to talk to a woman yesterday - one that I have known all my life.
Or should I say she's known me all my life? This woman is an aunt.
She used to be my best friend. We had some good times when I moved back from Wisconsin in the late '70's and into the 80's. Regardless of what is going on with us now, I'm sure she would agree ... it's a good thing bars, cars and motels can't talk. Yes, she and I have shared some secrets.
When I made a visit back to see the folks in the fall of 2005, she had mentioned she wanted my dad to get mom some new shoes. Not just shoes -- but pricey shoes - she never explained why.
hmmmm, how odd, I thought, that she is so insistent that she have such pricey shoes.
It seems really strange that a woman like my mother, who could care less what she looks like anymore, would need that kind of shoe. It's not so much that she doesn't care about her appearance anymore but it's the fact that she seldom gets out of the wheel chair anymore.
Well, a couple weeks later, the aunt and I talked again and she started laughing and said something to the effect of:
"I don't know what I was thinking! Yes, why would she need such pricey shoes when she seldom gets out of the wheel chair?" and she laughed.
End of subject.
Not so.
My mother has diabetes. They recently found a sore on the bottom of her foot. She didn't realize she had a sore, because she doesn't have much feeling in her feet any more.
Once again, I was talking with this aunt that used to be my best friend, that is now just my aunt again - and she managed to put this little zinger in the conversation:
"I told you and your dad a year ago that she needed better shoes - now she has this sore on her foot that isn't healing."
Well, dear auntie - since you're the one closest to her, and if you're so sure her shoes caused this sore or even could cause a sore, then why didn't you put it like that -- or better yet, why didn't you just get the fucking shoes when you first mentioned it 5 months ago?
(yes, dear auntie, it was 5 months ago -- not a year ago)
Family ... if ya can't blog about 'em, who can ya really talk to?
posted by junquedujour | 2:36 PM
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